Chance
by EllieRose101
Summary: When Willow and Joyce interrogate Buffy about Spike's admission of feelings for her and discover that she might be harboring feelings herself, the Slayer must decide what she's going to do about it. (Set during 'Crush' but goes off canon pretty quickly.)
1. Part One

Part One

Willow's mouth hung open. "He said that?" she questioned. "Spike actually told you he loved you?"

"Well, no," admitted Buffy. "I didn't let him get that far. But I could see the words coming."

Joyce pursed her lips. "Honey, did you give him…" she paused, trying to adequately express herself about the situation her daughter had found herself in, "…some kind of signals?"

"I didn't mean to," said Buffy, knowing how lame it sounded. "I do beat him up a lot. For him, that's like third base." Willow and Joyce shared a look, making Buffy slump further into the couch.

"Do you…" Willow began to ask, carefully picking her words.

"There are feelings, right?" said Dawn, who suddenly appeared in the living room doorway and clearly had no intention of being careful about how she sounded at all. "I mean, on your side?"

Joyce jumped at the intrusion and yelled at Dawn for creeping, swiftly sending her back to bed only to ask the very same question of Buffy herself.

"Well, I…" the Slayer stammered. "I don't know, exactly."

"Oh, Buffy," said Joyce and Willow in unison. Then Willow said, "So, what, you felt like he was gonna say something, but you didn't let him? How?"

"Me?" said Buffy. "Oh, I was big and brave with the running away." Upstairs, she could have sworn she heard Dawn snicker.

"You have to talk to him again."

Buffy groaned. "But what do I say, Will?"

Before Willow could suggest anything, Joyce said, "You have to tell him something. It was very rude of you leaving him like that."

"I know." Buffy groaned again.

"Hey, maybe if you go find him, he'll start talking again and do the hard part for you," Willow suggested, over-enthusiastic smile pasted across her face.

Buffy really wasn't so sure. The mere idea of it was making her blush, which her mother and best friend wasted no time or delicacy in pointing out.

"You do like him, don't you?" Willow prodded.

"Dawn thinks so," she Buffy, sighing. "Honestly? I hadn't really thought about it until she brought it up earlier. She was like fishing for a confession, and way eager to tell me that Spike felt the same. I think that's maybe why he tried talking to me today. Oh, god, she could have been telling him anything!"

"I'll deal with her later," said Joyce.

"Let's focus on what you're going to say now," added Willow.

Buffy looked between them. "You two make quite the team. I should start making you go double time on people when I need information out of them quick."

"You're changing the subject," said Willow and Buffy rolled her eyes.

"See what I mean?" she said to Joyce. "Relentless."

"Buffy," her mother warned.

"Okay, okay," she stood up. "Fine. I'll go talk to Spike, but if this goes wrong I'm totally blaming you guys."

"Wait!" Willow followed her out into the hall. "What are you gonna say?"

"I'll figure it out when I get there," said Buffy over her shoulder just as she reached for the door. Then, thought occurring to her, she paused and turned back to her friend. "Wait. There's something you could do for me."

Dawn watched from her bedroom window as her sister walked in the direction of Restfield cemetery, wondering what was about to go down and wishing she could be a fly on the wall.

* * *

Spike paced the lower part of his crypt, wishing he hadn't finished all his smokes already. Restless as he was, he could probably be doing with a walk to the store to stock up again, but he didn't want to risk running into the Slayer before he'd came up with a plan on how to best approach her.

"Rightly mucked that up," he chided himself.

"Spike?"

He jumped at the sound of his name called out in the darkness, then went to the ladder to go upstairs. Popping his head out of the hole between levels, his eyes swept over Buffy as she stood there, absentmindedly tapping her foot.

"Nervous?" he asked, smirking to himself when she too jumped at the reply.

"No," she said, stubbornly.

"Right," he sighed, pulling himself the rest of the way up and facing her properly. "This the bit where you punch me in the nose or toss me outta town?"

"This is the bit where we talk," she said, her gaze not meeting his.

"Oh," he took a step back, not sure where to look himself. "You, uh… I have beer, if you want?"

"I want," said Buffy, eagerly reaching for the proffered bottle and shivering slightly when her fingers grazed Spike's. "Sorry."

He nodded, fiddling with the top of his own bottle. "So…"

"I'm just gonna…" Buffy trailed off and perched herself on edge of his couch, surprised at how comfortable it was. Stealing herself, she then sat back further.

"Right," Spike said again, placing himself in a chair across from her. "Look, I'm sorry I've been a berk."

Buffy smiled shyly at him. "I wasn't exactly on it myself."

"Took you off guard, didn't I?" he said, adding "Did Dawn say anything to you?" at the same time as Buffy asked, "What did she tell you?"

They laughed at the jinx, then looked away from each other again.

Buffy swiftly stood up. "I should go," she said, putting the untouched beer down on the makeshift coffee table.

"Wait," said Spike, rising too.

After an endless moment, the Slayer asked, "Do you wanna patrol?" and Spike smiled at her, making things bearable again for a bit.

* * *

Kicking, punching, scrapping. Spike was in his element. What's more, Buffy was in it too, and she was glorious. Vibrant, violent. She was life, and damn was he drawn to it. Sick as that was, he didn't even care anymore.

"That all you got?" Buffy snarked, panting as she stood over some arrogant fledge who thought he could best her. She was playing, but he was too dumb to see. Spike grinned at the exchange as he sat back at watched it happen. It was damn good to see the Slayer play.

Pulling the vamp up, she shoved him down again just as hard. "You new in town, huh?" He only hissed in answer and she parried a feeble blow back at him. "Last chance," she warned, her words coming out in a singsong way.

The vamp's eyes widened and he stopped growling as Buffy bore down on him, driving the stake home. She thought realization of his untimely end had finally dawned on him, making him quiet in his final moment, but Spike had stiffened too.

In an altogether different kind of singsong voice, Drusilla whispered to herself as she stepped out of the shadows and snatched the Slayer up by the hair.


	2. Part Two

**Author Note:** I had to repost this chapter as there seemed to be an error the first time around and nobody got a notification.

Sorry if this has caused any confusion. I'm planning to post the third and final part directly after this. *crosses fingers*

* * *

Part Two

Buffy twisted against the sudden grip on her, wrenching herself free. Accusing eyes snapped to Spike as soon as she realized the identity of her assailant, but when he looked back at her, equal parts stricken and in shock, her attentions diverted back to his sire.

From her place in the dirt, Buffy kicked out at Dru, but she danced just out of reach, and it was then that Angel also made himself known.

On full alert, Buffy jumped up and took a defensive stance beside Spike as he did the same.

"Why are you still in town, Spike? Don't you have anything better to do than getting in Buffy's way?"

Buffy's features clouded. "Angel?" she said, "Is that you?"

"Who else?" he asked, offence in his voice.

Spike rolled his eyes. "Speaking of getting in the way," he drawled, "How come you keep showing up? Appearin' with Dru here, what do you expect the Slayer to think?"

Angel blinked. "Wait, you thought I was Angelus?"

"Duh," Spike muttered.

Ignoring him, Buffy kept her attention on Drusilla. "What's going on?" she demanded.

"Naughty, naughty," said Dru, stepping forward to wag a finger in Buffy's face.

Angel took hold of her arm before she got too close, but Spike was back in defense position, a low growl humming in his chest. Buffy's eyebrows went up a little at that, but she decided to file it away for overthinking later.

"What," she repeated, "is. Going. _On_?"

"I came to get the family back together," said Dru, pouting, "But the boys, they do steal my fun."

"I followed her here from L.A. to make sure she and Darla don't get into any more trouble," said Angel.

"Darla?!" exclaimed Buffy.

"Bloody hell," said Spike, and Dru began laughing.

"Daddy doesn't tell tales," she said.

"Yeah," Buffy snarked, "Daddy really isn't all that forthcoming with the helpful intel. Say, Angel, have you tried maybe _staking_ the vampires to stop them from getting into trouble?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Spike flinch at the mention of potentially killing his sire, but he kept at her side and said nothing.

"I'll deal with it," said Angel, his tone clipped.

Buffy blew out a breath. "Fine," she said. It wasn't like she actively wanted to fight Drusilla anyway. "But if more bodies start showing up? I will be calling a slayer party."

"Fine by me," Angel affirmed, storming off and yanking Drusilla along behind him.

Buffy's shoulders slumped as soon as they were out of sight.

"And I thought _I_ was a pillock," said Spike.

Buffy let out a short, tired laugh. "I'm sure there's plenty of room for more than one reigning champion."

Spike grinned at her. "What the bloody hell was that even about?"

She shrugged. "Drusilla said she came to find you. I guess Angel came to find her. Beyond that, I _really_ don't know or care."

With a dismissive nod of his head, Spike agreed to just let the weirdness of exes be. "What's for it?" he asked.

"I should go home," said Buffy, I don't like leaving mom alone too long. "But, oh-"

Spike tilted his head at her. "What?"

"I forgot," said Buffy, blushing. "We were supposed to…"

"Talk, right." Spike looked down at his feet. "Well, maybe we could leave off. Tonight's obviously not so good of a–" he was cut off midsentence by Buffy stepping forward and pressing her lips to his.

It was a shy, tentative kiss, and it knocked Spike sideways. Blinking up at Buffy when she pulled away again, he heard her say, "Thanks," but he couldn't comprehend what for.

"Wha-huh?" he managed, making Buffy laugh and blush some more.

"You were gonna fight with me," she said. "If Drusilla tried to start something, you were ready to help out."

"Oh," he blinked again, realizing it was true. "Yeah, I…" his brow furrowed. "I hadn't really thought about it. Just acted on instinct, like."

Buffy kissed him again for that, more enthusiastically than before. Taking his hand in hers, she asked him to walk with her.

"Sure," he said, amazed at his ability to sound casual in his state of dumbfoundedness. The feel of Buffy's small palm against his did things to his chest. He could feel the pulse point in her thumb as it twined with his, and the rhythm of it kept him in pace. He was sure he'd have fallen down in shock, otherwise.

The day had gone a mile off course from where he first expected, and he was foggier still about where the path ahead of him might lead. Even so, Spike was damn near sure he was dreaming by the time Buffy reached her front door and invited him in.

* * *

In the living room, her whole gang of Scoobys looked back at them.

"What's this?" asked Spike, his eyes scanning around for signs of an ambush.

"Did you get it?" Buffy asked her friends, stepping past him.

Willow stood up and handed her some notes scribbles on a legal pad. "Yeah, as far as we can tell," she said brightly.

"Good work," Buffy praised her, taking the notes and briefly glancing down at them. She then turned back to Spike and said, "Take a seat."

He planted his feet and crossed his arms in response.

"It's okay," she reassured him, taking his hand again. "Trust me."

After another glance around the room, Spike sat. And that's when she told him her plan to have his chip taken out.


	3. Part Three

**Author Note:** There was an error when part two got published meaning that nobody got a notification. Please read that before reading this.

* * *

Part Three

From his position on Buffy's couch, Spike kept surveying the room. Again and again, his eyes went back and forth searching for… _something_ that would give him a clue as to what was happening.

"Say something," said Buffy, "You're wigging me out here."

Ignoring his instinct to put her at ease, Spike stayed rigid, his face a mask. A moment later, Buffy shook her head and asked her friends to give them a minute. It was then he broke his silence.

"What's this?" he asked again.

Buffy closed her eyes, pulling up the painful memory from her not too distant past. "When mom got sick," she began, "I was scared to death. There was this thing in her head that I couldn't fight. Couldn't control. It was terrifying."

Spike nodded, his features softening. "You got t' thinking what it might be like for me, did you?"

"You were there, beside me. It… meant a lot."

"Buffy…" Spike tried to continue but, for once, the words didn't come, wrong ones or otherwise.

"The thing about control is," she continued, "You can't really appreciate how important it is until you have none."

He nodded again, still not fully convinced it wasn't all a trap and that her words – everything he'd wanted to hear – weren't just there to lure him in. Even so, he felt compelled to hear her out.

"I was sat here earlier thinking about what it might be like to date you," she said, "And it dawned on me that you're on a leash. And I've done nothing about it. I…" She caught his gaze and held it finishing with the words, "I'm trusting you."

Spike sat in awe, knowing how much the words cost her; how much more the truth behind them meant. She wasn't one for taking such things lightly – it was one of the things he loved about her. And damn if he didn't know how much good reason and bad experience she had, telling her never to trust again.

She could tack a threat on the end; spell out that if he broke her trust he would be dust on the wind faster than he could spit, but she didn't because he knew it. The unsaid truth hung between them, more solid than any of the actual threats they'd shared through the years. Yet the gravity of consequences for what she was offering only made the offer more heartfelt in his eyes.

"I don't deserve-" he began to say, but Buffy cut him off with a wry laugh that made him pause and tilt his head at her instead.

"It's not about deserving," said Buffy.

"Then why?" he asked. "Not to look a good-looking gift mare in the gob, but I don't get it."

Buffy began picking at her nails, suddenly finding them fascinating.

"Hey," said Spike, drawing her eyes back to his face. "What is it?"

"Guilt," said Buffy, which only confused him further. She went on to say, "I feel bad for leaving it this long. For making a joke of what the Initiative did to you. It was cruel. I was cruel."

Spike shook his head defiantly. "Not havin' that," he said. "I _couldn't_ be trusted."

Buffy shrugged. "Yeah, well, I think you are now," she said. "I…" she paused to bite her lip before locking her gaze with his again. "I'm giving you a chance."

And there it was again. A small sentence with a weighty core. _Trust. Chance._ The Slayer was trying to kill him, Spike was sure. She would offer him everything he wanted on a silver platter and then – BAM! – she'd own his arse and consume him completely.

"Sign me up," he told her, the jokey turn of phrase not in any way masking his genuine love and appreciation for what she was doing.

Buffy smiled at him and stood up to go call her friends back into the room, but Spike caught hold of her hand, making her pause and look back at him.

"Slayer," he said, taking an even breath.

"Yeah?" she wet her bottom lip as anticipation crawled around in her gut. With him still sat down, she was practically towering over him, and the way he looked at her made her feel like she was ten feet tall with a halo.

"Buffy," said Spike, "I think you've already figured it…" he trailed off and she nodded. After another deep breath he said, "I love you."

Buffy nodded again. "I know," she said, pulling him up by their clasped hands and walking with him towards their fresh start.


End file.
